


Look What You've Done

by beastieboys



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Valentine's Day, slight homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 09:09:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3723289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastieboys/pseuds/beastieboys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer enlists the help of Madison in getting Mason a Valentine's Day gift. Turns out, he doesn't even follow her advice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look What You've Done

**Author's Note:**

> It might be a good idea to listen to [Martha My Dear by the Beatles](http://listenonrepeat.com/watch/?v=wfGokUQCjac#The_Beatles\(White_Album\)-_Martha_My_Dear) while you read this. Based off a fic request on my [Spenson McPorter tumblr!!](http://spensonmcporter.tumblr.com)
> 
> (Also, do not ever get the present Spencer got Mason unless you are in a long-term relationship with your partner.)

Spencer is such a fucking idiot. What kind of loser waits until February thirteenth to get his boyfriend a Valentine's gift? Spencer Fucking Porter does.

 

The problem is he has no idea what level of romantic Mason McCarthy is. Does he want chocolate? Roses? A tuxedo dinner? Sex? God, this is why Spencer needs to stop kissing the nearest hot guy on New Years.

 

Yeah, they hooked up on New Years. Well, Spencer shouldn't say "hooked up", because all they did was give each other a hand job in Ms. Berry's downstairs bathroom at the party. But now they’re together, holding hands and shit. But Spencer hasn’t ever really been in a relationship outside of fuckbuddy status, which isn’t surprising. So naturally, he isn’t very good at reading romantic cues.

 

He tries to think of the past week with Mason. Did he say anything that would give a hint? Spencer punches his locker. Fucking nothing.

 

Spencer sighs. He’s out of options. He’s gotta...he’s gotta…

 

Spencer Porter has to ask Madison McCarthy for help. Oh _God,_ there has to be another option. But no one else knows Mason as well as his twin sister. But he really doesn't want to talk to overprotective-incest-sister about her brother. The one Spencer wants to stick his dick in. _Fucking hell._

 

Spencer looks up from the ground at the students passing him as if he’s not in the middle of a breakdown. He inspects every single one of them, searching for a Cheerio’s uniform paired with a curled ponytail and a tall, lanky boy trailing behind.

 

_“Come on, come on.”_  Spencer whispers to himself, glancing at the LED sign in the hallway that periodically flashes the time. _2:24._ If Madison doesn’t come around that corner in six minutes, he’s screwed.

 

He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees her round the corner two minutes later, but his heart rate has sped up dramatically (but that might just be because Mason is beside her). Spencer walks into the middle of the hallway.

 

“Hey, hey! Can I talk to you for a minute?” Spencer asks, grabbing Madison’s shoulder.

 

“It’s not _that_ hard to tell up apart, is it?” Madison asks. _God, she thinks he’s looking for Mason. He doesn’t have time for these antics!_

 

“No, you.” Spencer replies, pulling her away from her brother towards Spencer’s locker. She resists, but he’s quite a bit stronger than her (not to say she’s weak, because _damn,_ those years of cheerleading are paying off).

 

Spencer looks back at Mason, who looks like a lost puppy in a crowd. It’s adorable. _No time, Spencer. Three minutes._

 

“I need your help.” Spencer says.

 

“With…?” Madison replies, knitting her eyebrows together.

 

“Mason--what, uh, what does he like? For Valentine’s Day, I mean.” Spencer asks, watching as her expression grows cold.

 

“You waited until the _day_ before to ask his _sister_ what he would want for _Valentines Day?”_ Madison asks slowly.

 

“Yeah.” Spencer says.

 

“I _swear_.” Madison mumbles, turning her attention back to the football player. “He’s a romantic. He may not seem like it, but he likes the sweet stuff. But he doesn’t like cherry flavored anything. He will break up with you on the spot if he even _smells_ any.”

 

“O...kay.” Spencer says.

 

“But don’t be too stereotypical, and _don’t_ take him to Breadstix. We’re on a diet.” Madison finishes.

 

“Good luck!” she smiles, walking back to the lost puppy in the sea of people leaving school.

 

✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫

 

_You got this, Spence. Just get a bear or something._

 

Spencer’s smart ass led him to the mall, which is crowded as hell already, not to mention other suckers like him are trying to grab at some last minute candy or whatever.

 

What a nightmare. He’s like an ant; he’ll never find what he needs here. He could call Kitty, but she’d just laugh in his face and hang up, which on any other day, Spencer would prefer.

 

Spencer sees one of those lame-ass t-shirt kiosks in the middle of the mall that has a pair of _I'm His/I'm Hers_ shirts displayed opposite the cash register. That's romantic, right?

 

He makes his way over to the kiosk, approaching the vendor.

 

"Do you have any _I'm His_ shirts that point the other way? And in a men's size?" Spencer asks the man. The man's face contorts.

 

"What does this look like? A faggot emporium?" the vendor replies.

 

"Fuck you, old man." Spencer says before turning and walking as far away from that asshat as possible.

 

Spencer walks through the mall for two hours, looking through card stores and candy shops; he even ventures into stores that Mason probably shops in, just to see if there was something, _anything_ that resembled his boyfriend.

 

And then he gets an idea. He’ll have to drive about a half hour away, but Spencer’s sure it’ll be worth it.

 

Man, this is perfect. This will be unforgettable. Spencer can barely contain his excitement when he pulls up to the animal shelter.

 

_A puppy. He's gonna get Mason a puppy to match his puppy eyes._

 

Spencer grins to himself, pulling the key out of the ignition and stepping out of his go-go mobile. He's a smart guy.

 

The shelter is about half an hour away from closing time, which means Spencer has to go fast. He has to find the perfect dog (or maybe a cat?) quick. Yeah, maybe _quick_ isn’t the best way to look for a forever companion, but he _knows_ that Mason will love this. He’ll love whatever big-eyed-floppy-eared animal comes in his sight.

 

Spencer scours through the puppy section, but all the puppies there are little chihuahuas and frankly, those aren’t his type of dog, Mason be damned.

 

He looks through the section with older dogs, and that’s where he sees it: the perfect dog. It’s a bernese mountain dog, so it’s big, but hey, Mason’s house is spacious and the dog is _so cute_. Spencer approaches it’s kennel and reads the paper attached to the door.

 

_Martha, two years. Compatible with children. Not compatible with cats._

 

She sounds perfect! And her shaggy curls match Mason's perfectly.

 

Spencer walks up to the front desk and looks the lady sitting at it in the eye.

 

“I would like to adopt Martha, please. Tonight, if you don’t mind.” Spencer tries to come off as polite, but his voice is stern. The lady raises her eyebrows.

 

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Valentines Day tomorrow, would it?” she asks. He groans.

 

“Yes, my long-time...wife...and I have been discussing a dog for quite a while and I’ve already got the supplies for her at home.” Spencer lies. He’s glad he left his varsity jacket in his truck.

 

“Very well. It’ll be an $100 adoption fee, but I’ll go get her from her kennel.”

 

“Thank you.” he says as the lady leaves the desk and enters the kennel room.

 

It takes about five minutes, but the lady returns with a large, drooling dog bumbling behind her.

 

“You just have to fill out a few papers, alright?” she says.

 

Spencer smirks. “Hand ‘em over.”

 

Spencer puts in a lot of fake information on the papers so they can’t track him or anything and discover he’s a highschooler and doesn’t actually have a wife. But he fills out the papers the best he can while still giving Mason legal ownership of Martha.He gives the forms back to the woman at the desk and pulls out his (emergency) credit card. _Crap, he can’t use it._ He has to find those twenties he got from relatives and stuck in various places in his truck.

 

“Hold on a sec, I left my money in the go-go mobile.” he says to the woman and rushes outside. He spends seven minutes looking for the money but finds it all (and it’s thankfully enough) and returns inside the shelter to the front desk.

 

“Cash, huh?” the lady asks, suspicious, but hey, a dog adopted is a dog adopted.

 

She does a few things on the computer and Spencer signs the papers with the signature he’s seen Mason do time and time again.

 

“Well, Mr. McCarthy,” (Spencer’s heart elates when he hears that, even though it’s just a pseudonym for now), “Martha’s all yours. Have a nice night.”

 

The lady gives Spencer the leash to Martha.

 

“You too, ma’am.” he replies and leaves.

 

**✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫  
**

 

Spencer wakes up with his arms wrapped around Martha and her gentle breath on his face. He jolts awake and out of bed, momentarily forgetting why a dog is in his bed. WHen he remembers, he almost freaks. How did he get a _giant dog_ past his mother? She must have been drinking. Spencer sighs. He’ll deal with that later.

 

Now is Mason time.

 

Spencer stopped at the pet supply store the night before to get a basic supply of bowls, food, a collar (sparkly, for Mason’s tastes), and a leash. He gathers those bags in his hands, sans the collar and leash, which he puts on Martha.

 

Spencer peeks from outside his door and sees that his mom’s is still closed. _Now’s the time. She’s asleep._

 

Spencer pulls on Martha’s leash and leads her out of his room and down the hall to the front door. He takes one more glance behind him, just in case, and pulls Martha out of his house.

 

The drive to Mason’s house was one of the best he’s ever had; rock ‘n’ roll on the radio, a giant dog panting with joy beside him, occasionally sticking her head out of the window. Man, it might be harder to give Martha to Mason than he thought. He’s kind of growing attached to this big ball of hair.

 

When he pulls into Mason’s driveway, Spencer checks his phone to make sure that it is indeed, Saturday, February fourteenth, A.K.A. Valentine’s Day. It is, thank God.

 

He helps Martha out of the front seat and takes the supply bags with him and leads the dog to the front door. This was such a stupid idea. Spencer can’t believe he did this.

 

He rings the doorbell and holds his breath to calm his heart rate down.

 

Mason opens the door (thank heavens), looking groggy and disheveled, which makes Spencer realize that coming over at eight-thirty am was probably a(nother) dumb idea.

 

“Hey,” Mason grins when he realizes who is at the door. “What’s up?”

 

“Happy Valentines Day.” Spencer grins, standing to the side and revealing Martha.

 

“Holy shit.” Mason mumbles, waking up instantly. His eyes widen. “Madison?” he yells up the stairs.

 

_Shit. Shit shit shit. This was an awful idea, they’ve only been together a month and a half and now Spencer is giving Mason a dog? He’s so fucking stupid, fuck, fuck, fuck._

Madison pads down the stairs and to the door.

 

“Hey, Spencer!” she smiles, obviously just as sleepy as Mason was. “Nice dog!”

 

“It’s for me, I think.” Mason says, glancing at the dog and then his sister, whose face drops.

 

“W-what?”

 

“Yeah.” Spencer replies, feeling awkward. “I know it’s sort of--”

 

“Crazy?”

 

“--yeah, but her curls remind me of yours, Mason, and her big puppy dog eyes remind me of yours, and she’s so loveable, and I bought everything you’d need for her for a while.” Spencer says.

 

“I don’t know what to say.” Mason replies.

 

“Mason, we can’t keep a dog!” Madison says. Her brother turns to her.

 

“Madison, we have this huge house, but it always feels so empty! She seems like a nice dog, can we at least keep her and see what happens?”

 

“Fine.” Madison says, sighing. She invites Spencer and Martha inside to sort out this ordeal.

 

“When I said he likes _sweet stuff,_ I meant like, candy or something. Not a freaking _dog_.” Madison scolds once Mason has passed by her and Spencer.

 

“The heart wants what the heart wants, or whatever.” Spencer shrugs.

 

✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫

 

Mason and Spencer cuddle on the couch, months after he got Martha. Spencer pulls some of Mason’s curls out of his eyes and kisses his cheek.

 

Martha comes tumbling down the stairs, ruining the silence as the two boys sit up to make sure she’s okay. She rushes over to them and gets right in Mason’s lap, licking his face. He makes a sour face as Spencer laughs.

 

“I love this dog.” Spencer comments.

 

“Me too.” Mason says, and after a moment, adds “And I love you.”

 

Spencer freezes; they’ve never exchanged those words before. His heart pounds in his chest.

  
“I love you too.” he replies, earning a kiss from both Mason and Martha.


End file.
